by James McEwan
The Marine led her to the stairs and down out of sight. Then the Terrain leader, Emperor Barros, exited the vehicle. Just then one of the Marines spotted something, “I’ve got movement forty meters to the left, third floor.”
“Light it up,” the Colonel commanded. Then he gripped the Emperor and ran him to the stairs, as the morning stillness was shattered with the sounds of laser rifles cracking through the air. As soon as the Marines started firing the Fabians returned fire and the street became a miniature version of Hell.
Outnumbered and greatly out gunned the Marines stood no chance of surviving the onslaught of fire, yet they refused to lie down and die. They fought like warrior poets. When a heavy volume of fire rained down on them from the building to their left, the Marine manning the mini power gun unleashed its devastating killing power. A stream of light poured out of the spinning six-barreled gun as the Marine worked it back and forth, as if he were some kind of deranged firefighter, not trying to work a fire but create one instead.
He tore up the men, metal, and concrete that were on the third floor. Men died as others watched parts of their comrade’s fly passed their faces just before they met the same fate. The Marines were shooting in all directions as the fire was coming from all around. High above the fight the Fabian Captain screamed out, “Take out that damn gun!”
A Fabian missile team fired and the missile streaked down striking the vehicle just front of the gunner. The explosion tore through the armor as if it was paper, and the gunner was ejected some twenty feet in the air. He landed with a crunch and on fire. His armor had saved him from the explosion, but the fall had knocked him out. With his armor burning it was not long before the damaged armor’s filtration failed and he suffocated inside his own helmet.
The Marines had lost their best asset and were now doing their best to hold, but the Fabians had already called in reinforcements. Two dropships strafed the street, raking it with fire as they went. Two Marines were caught in the wake and met their makers. On the return pass they dropped two dozen troops right on top of the remaining Marines.
The Marines fired on the dropping troops killing a good half of them before they could land. One took a hit in the jet belt, which exploded, raining fire and body parts down on them. Another took a hit in the jet belt controls and shot up, slamming into the side of a building and breaking the trooper’s neck. The Captain, who was still on the roof commanding the attack, was nearly killed when the body slammed into him as it rocketed passed on the way up.
The remaining Terrain Marines were low on ammo or out altogether and pulled their force blades to fight hand to hand. Their heavy armor gave them the advantage and the waded through the rest of the troops on the ground like they were nothing more than training dummies.
Back on the rooftop the Captain was beside himself, “What does it take to kill these bastards?” He then called for more troops. Again, the dropships streaked passed laying down more fire on the street. More Marines joined their fallen friends. Two Marines were all that were left standing. Out of the eight that began the firefight, Stone and Patten were all that were left. They were both burned and bleeding, their armor cracked and broken.
“So Stone, we survived the damn Dreenoi on Nome just to get killed on Isis by a bunch of porridge eating pussies,” Patten said.
“Well Stone old buddy, I think if we’re going to die, then lets die like Marines,” and with that they both activated the charges they had attached to the back of their armor, carefully orchestrated with a time delay.
In seconds they were surrounded by the enemy screaming at them to drop their weapons and surrender. Both marines complied, dropping their force blades to the ground as they dropped to their knees and placed their hands on their heads.
The Captain, confident that the battle was won, jet belted down to see to the surrender of the Marines personally. He walked up to the two men, “Take off their helmets. I want to look into the eyes of my enemy before I kill them.” The Fabian troopers removed the Marine’s helmets as ordered. “I thought Terrain Marines never surrendered, and yet you two gave up in a vain attempt to save your own skins, how pathetic.” Stone laughed and Patten smiled. “What? What’s so funny?” The Captain demanded.
Stone stopped laughing and spoke, “Who said we were surrendering asshole.” Time was up; the Captain didn’t even get to process what the Marine had said as the two charges went off within a fraction of second of each other. The explosions tore through the men standing there. They all died in a flash of heat and light. The Marines had gone out in a true blaze of glory and they had taken many times their number with them.
Inside, a Marine led Sasha through the poorly lit hallway. Behind her was Connell and with him Colonel Grunt covering their backs. They moved quickly and after going down two flights of stairs and through a number of turns they finally reached their destination, a dirty steel door with a view pad next to the door. The Marine pushed the button under the pad. The pad lit up and the face of a middle-aged man appeared, “Yes?”
“Open up, special delivery of class one package,” the Marine barked back at the man on the screen.
“Access code please?” was his reply.
The Marine didn’t know the code and turned to Colonel Grunt, “Colonel?”
The problem was that he didn’t know the code either. To make things worse the Intel officer who did know the code had just been killed outside in the fire fight. The Colonel didn’t miss a beat as he pushed the Emperor in front of the camera, “Here’s our bloody code, now open the damn door before I get irritated.
The screen went dark and they heard a loud clanging sound as the magnetic lock was released and the door swung open. Once they were inside Colonel Grunt strode up to the Intel officer, “Good choice.”
“This way,” was all the man said in response. He led them to a large room, which was dark until they entered and the lights clicked on.
The Marine in the lead immediately brought his weapon to bear, his figure on the trigger. The reason, the room was filled with enemy troops all pointing their weapons at them. The Intel officer stepped in front of the Marine and spoke, “I suggest you put that gun down before you get all of us killed.”
The Marine looking for direction from his Colonel spoke over his shoulder, “Sir, I can take the six to the left if you have the six on the right.”
“I can do that,” Colonel Grunt said as he was mapping out his attack in his mind.
“Oh give up the macho bullshit. Terrain Marines never surrender is what’s wrong with you jar heads. You never know when to stop fighting and start looking out for your own asses. Sometimes surviving to fight another day is better than dying for your ideals,” the Intel officer said as he stepped out of the path of the Marine’s weapon, worried that the Marine may not see reason.
“I’d rather die fighting then live as a coward and a traitor,” the Marine snapped back.
“You think I’m a traitor? Well maybe so, but now I’m a really rich traitor and no longer have to live in shit holes like this place taking orders from jack asses in their nice cushy offices.”
“Enough!” The Fabian officer, also a Colonel, barked out. “I know your reputation Colonel Grunt, but this is one fight you cannot win. Lay down your weapons and you will be treated with the respect your rank affords. And who knows, perhaps in time you can join the NGE forces. It would be an honor to fight next to you, instead of having the distinction of killing you.”
“If you know of me then you know there is no way in Hell that I’m going to lay down and roll over like some beaten dog. I may die this day, but if you don’t order your men to surrender then I can promise you’ll die with me,” Colonel Grunt said, and he meant it.
“Jim, stand down. That’s an order,” the Emperor said, not seeing any other way out without heavy casualties on both sides, and the thought of losing Sasha was more than he could bear. He knew that Colonel Grunt would fight to his last breath so the only way to stop him was to order him to st
and down.
“Connell you can’t,” Sasha pleaded with him. “Between the three of us we can take them.”
He took her hands into his and gently lifted them to his lips where he kissed them lightly, “Of that I have no doubt; however I can’t risk anything happening to you or our child. They will treat us with respect, and we won’t be harmed in any way.”
“Of that you have my word,” the Fabian Colonel said.
“Sir, are you sure this is what you want to do?” Colonel Grunt asked.
“Yes Jim, put down your weapons,” Connell replied.
The two Marines surrendered their weapons and were not happy about doing so, however they had comfort in the knowledge that they had never surrendered, but were ordered to stand down. As soon as they handed over their weapons, they were shoved to the ground, searched and cuffed. The Fabian Colonel kept his word and no one laid a hand on the Emperor or Sasha.
Chapter 24
Thad lead the small group through the streets, having the most experience moving unseen. The twins followed his every step as if they had been highly trained operatives their whole lives. It wasn’t so much the training and experience they had gained since the day they were rescued by Thad years ago, as it was the fact that they knew their lives depended on following his lead.
St. Claire took up the rear. He moved and carried himself like a seasoned warrior, yet he still couldn’t help feeling the same way he had on his first combat action so many years before. That familiar feeling of a nest of rattlesnakes had taken up residence in the pit of his stomach. The difference this time was that he met the feeling like it was an old friend that kept his senses sharp and his reflexes quick instead of a feeling that filled him with paralyzing fear.
It took them longer to make their way the scant few blocks to the sports center then it would have if there hadn’t been a war making every step dangerous. As they neared their destination, they could hear the sounds of heavy fighting. Thad led them into a building that overlooked the sports center’s front plaza. There they observed a gruesome scene. Near the front doors of the sports center Kára was busy shooting at anything or anyone brave enough to poke his head up to take a shot at her. They noticed an Orillia working with her. He was busy stacking bodies as if they were sand bags and was almost done building a half circle fighting position with the corpses.
Kára was using what looked like salvaged weapons as she fought on. She wasn’t using the offensive capabilities of her armor because the targets were out of range. However, there was plenty of evidence that she had used it at the beginning of the fight. The ground around them was littered with blast marks and parts of bodies. She was so busy keeping the heads down of the troops across the plaza that she didn’t see a group creeping around to her flank.
“Thad, you see those assholes coming around to her left?” St. Claire asked.
“Yep, I think we need to assist your lady and her new friend,” Thad replied. He then placed his hand on Fiona’s shoulder, “You two got over watch?”
She smiled, “You bet your sweet little muscly bum we got over watch.”
“Come on sis, let’s go set up while the boys go do their thing,” Freya said.
Thad and St. Claire left the twins to make their way back down to street level. They didn’t have much time so they ran as fast as they could. Thad was younger and in better shape than St. Claire, not to mention his lighter bones, so he moved with a speed and grace that St. Claire had no hope of keeping up with.
After St. Claire caught up with Thad, who was in the ambush position they had spotted from up above, Thad asked, “You ready?”
“Really?” He said between breaths. “Give me a bloody second to catch my breath,” St. Claire said as he bent over and took a few deep breaths. “Okay let’s go save my girl.”
Back up in the building the twins had removed the window and pushed two tables up to the windowsill. Fiona was now lying behind her favorite sniper rifle, marking targets with the scope. Freya was lying next to her looking through a spotter’s scope, watching for Thad’s signal to fire.
Thad and St. Claire were almost ready to ambush the enemy when the Fabian’s reached their flanking position and let loose. Cone rifle rounds tore into the wall of bodies and a few passed through and struck Kára in the side. They bounced off her armor, but it was enough of a punch to cause her to lose her breath and drop her rifle. She grabbed Mortlock and pulled him to the ground and the two got as flat as they could as rounds tore into their fortification.
Thad saw this and waved his hand in the air then pointed it straight at the enemy. This was the signal the twins had been waiting for, “Green light sis, good hunting,” Freya said. Fiona didn’t say a thing; she let the rifle do the talking for her, and shout it did as it barked out death with every squeeze of the trigger.
Down below the first Fabian hit dropped in a pink spray of mist as his head atomized when Fiona’s round found its mark. Again and again Fiona dropped men like they were targets on a range. By the time the enemy understood the fire was coming from behind them it was too late, Thad and St. Claire were on top of them. St. Claire laid down heavy covering fire from a light cone machine gun, while Thad ran up and dropped two grenades on top of their position. By the time he returned to cover the grenades went off. The explosions tore through the rest of the team sent to flank Kára.
The fire that was raining down on Kára stopped and she chanced a look. As she looked over the top of the bodies she could see that the enemy that had been flanking her were all dead and she could make out two shapes moving to flank the rest of the enemy so she crawled back over to the other side of her position and handed Mortlock a rifle, “Looks like we have some friends out there. They’re moving to flank the other enemy, so let’s keep them busy until our friends get there,” Kára said as she checked the rifle she was going to use.
“I’ll follow your lead,” Mortlock said as he checked the ammo of the rifle she had handed him.
“Well then, let’s get busy,” she said. Then the two of them popped over the wall of dead and opened fire.
Between Kára and Mortlock’s fire, as well as Fiona’s, they kept the enemy’s head down. Thad and St. Claire both tossed grenades into the enemy’s position until there was nothing left to fire back.
Once all the fire from the enemy ceased, Thad and St. Claire lowered their weapons into a ready position and walked towards Kára and Mortlock. Fiona and Freya broke down their gear and left the hide to join the others.
Kára stood up and with a rifle on her hip, she watched the two men approach her. Once she made out Thad’s face, she laughed and cried out, “Go figure you’d be the one to come to my aid.”
Thad yelled back “But I wasn’t alone. I found something you lost.”
St. Claire pulled off his helmet revealing his face. “Honey, I’m home,” he said in his best sarcastic voice.
Kára laughed, “I should have figured you two would find each other and then come to assist my glorious battle.”
“Oh was that what we were doing? I thought we were rescuing you,” St. Claire said as he hugged Kára.
She returned his hug, “Okay if it makes you feel better than yes, you rescued me.”
Thad thought the whole interchange a little strange given that they were standing in the middle of a pile of bodies. “So Kára, who’s your new friend?” Thad asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.
“Oh, yes… where are my manners. Thaddeus Hammer and Dominic St. Claire this is Mortlock the Destroyer,” Kára said as she introduced them.
Mortlock blushed, “Actually it’s Professor Mortlock. I’m only the Destroyer on the weekends or on special occasions. The rest of the time I teach classes on ancient cultures.”
“Really, what cultures do you cover?” St. Claire asked.
“Mostly ancient ones,” he said with a bemused look on his face, “but I’m most fascinated by the Eli, and have given the better part of my career to the study of the anc
ient Eli,” Mortlock answered.
“No wonder you two are fast friends,” St. Claire said nodding his head toward Kára. “After all she is one.”
“Oh I know she’s an Eli,” Mortlock replied.
“No, I mean she’s an ancient Eli,” St. Claire said.
“What?” Mortlock asked confused by his statement.
Before St. Claire could say more the twins came jogging up, “Everyone still in one piece?” Fiona asked.
“Ah our angels from up on high,” Mortlock said with a warm smile, as he found his attention diverted to the two beauties that now stood before him.
“Professor Mortlock may I introduce my wives Freya and Fiona Hammer,” Thad said. Then he remembered that Kára had not met them in this dimension. “Oh and this is Kára, St. Claire’s,” he paused not sure how to refer to her.
Kára helped him out, “Lover, battle partner, and traveling companion. You can take your pick.” She then hugged both girls in turn, “It’s so nice to meet you again.”
Confused Fiona asked, “Again? That’s twice now!”
Thad realized he had never explained about meeting their alter egos when he had been in the other dimension. “Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that we had the chance to meet the Fiona and Freya in the other dimension.”
Freya crossed her arms, “Yeah, you did!”
Fiona looked at St. Claire, “That’s what you were talking about back at the holding cell.”
St. Claire answered, “Yes my dear, I had the extraordinary privilege of meeting your counterparts in the other dimension. However, it’s wonderful to meet the two of you in this one.”
Kára could see Thad was in a bit of hot water so she threw him a life raft, “Don’t worry ladies he was a perfect gentleman, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway the other versions of you liked the ladies more.”